Cry, Little Sister
Cry, Little Sister, inspired by the song of the same name, is a glimpse into the past of Sadori en'Eveil. Chapter One Sitting so close to the Abyss she felt she could reach out and touch it, her mind wandered. For all her time spent there it still seemed to comfort her, wrapping her in cool cloying sweetness. Cradling her. The Dancer suppressed a tremor as she turned her attention back to the Celebrant in her arms. "What do I need to do?" "You will need to fast. No food or drink for three days..." Sadori nodded as Olorae continued the explanation. She'd been without many times and for longer periods. She would manage, and still uphold her responsibilities. It had certainly been beaten into her enough as a child. ~The four year old girl stumbled, fighting against the darkness that hovered at the edge of her vision and the dizziness that threatened to overcome her. She heard the whistling of the cane cutting through the air split seconds before it landed on her shoulders, firey agony lancing through her as she bit back a scream. And still she held the basket of clean towels, sponges and soaps tightly in both hands and off the floor as she stood beside the bathing pool. It had been two days since they stole her shiny dark curls, the only physical reminder of her mother, causing her to wail inconsolably as she tried to tear the now pale white hair from her head. Two days since they had beaten her until she couldn't make a sound. Two days since she had been allowed a single morsel of bread or sip of water. And yet she stood there, arms aching, body bruised and throbbing. And she prayed. In her head, for she dares not utter the words where they could be heard, she offered a child's simple prayer. Please Shilen, take me too.~ "... sacrifice will need to be made." Sadori's attention snapped back to what her affianced was saying. "A sacrifice? What sort of sacrifice?" Panic gripped her with icy talons. "One of great importance." Olorae continued. The Dancer retreated. Removing her arms from the Celebrant to wrap them about herself, shields slamming into place as that other spirit within sought to protect her. Eyes darkening, she schooled her features to blankness. Sacrifice? What more could the Dark Goddess ask of her? Wasn't her life and family enough? Her individuality? Three times to the Abyss? A curse she would never be free of? Two decades torn from they woman she loved? What more is there to give? And then her heart chilled. No. No that! She would never ask that! "... please! You're scaring me. What's wrong?" Olorae's voice finally cut through her thoughts. "A sacrifice?" Her voice sounded hollow even to herself. "Yes, something to place upon the altar. Something of personal importance to you." "Something material? A symbol?" "Yes. A show of dedication to her service." Sadori exhaled, releasing a breath she had not known she was holding. A material possession. Not a life altering sacrifice, then. The Celebrant watched her, then relaxed with a nervous laugh. "Was that what was bothering you?" "Xas...I thought...I mean... Haven't I sacrificed enough? You ''are all I have. But I understand now." Her explanation seemed weak to her ears. How strong was her devotion to Shilen if she balked at this early stage? In her mind, she weighed her desires against her devotion. If Shilen asked it of her, would she really sacrifice her relationship with Olorae? The answer froze her to the core. "But I know what I can offer Her." "You do?" Olorae's voice betraying just a hint of surprise. "Xas. I know just the thing. A break with the past." Her voice sounding confident and once more at ease, while the reality of her decision hung like a weight upon her heart. Chapter Two With the merest rustle of cloth, a slight, pale figure emerged from the protective darkness of the large shrouded bed. Moonlight kissed her feet and steadily illuminated more of the Dancer's naked body as she drew nearer the latticework doors leading onto the small balcony. Pausing before a settee just left of the doors, she stooped to reach into the shadows beneath the seat- silvery moonlight casting the ornate tattoo of raven wings that covered her back into high contrast. Rising, she clutched a wrapped parcel to her chest and slipped quietly onto the balcony. Chill flagstones made her feet ache as the infrequent wind shocked her flesh. Even so, she knelt, facing the moon and placing the parcel before her. She couldn't remember why, but the moon was important. Akalith has said as much and she had hazy memories of her mother gazing at the moon as she sang and rocked her to sleep as a little one. Mother. Mama. This is why she was here, naked and freezing in the Autumn night. Frozen, trembling fingers turned back layer after layer of protective suede and cloth with precise movements in what had become a ritual to her. Cold pale light shone on a child's silver bracelet nestled on a bed of purple silk, gleaming faintly. Gently setting aside the bracelet, she lifted the fine fabric, letting the folds fall away to reveal a beautiful half length robe with full, bell style sleeves. In her mind's eye, she recalled that the silk was actually a lovely deep magenta, and the sleeves were bordered in a vine of dark blue flowers and silver crescents that even now caught in the light and glowed softly. But her memories recalled it in this light best. Wrapping the robe around her, she brought one of the lapels to her face and breathed in the memory of the one person she missed most in all the world. Retrieving the bracelet, she held it in the palm of her open hand and gazed with tear filled eyes as a tiny inset amethyst winked at the moon. This was it. The possessions she valued most above all else. All she had of her mother- and her family. ~"''Little mouse. Come out of there, you are going to get dirty before Auntie arrives." The three year old giggled and crawled farther under the bed. She hated visiting with Auntie. Auntie always upset Mama and made her sit very very still. Hiding from Mama was much more fun. Then there was Mama's smiling face, pretty and pale, with beautiful dark hair. She loved Mama so much! "Come out Baby Girl. Or there will be no cookies for -..." Then Mama's face was gone, only her feet could be seen. So she crept forward, placing her tiny hand on Mama's foot, her new bracelet shining in the sunlight. It was her birthday, and the bracelet was very pretty. Then there was a lot of noise, and voices she didn't recognize and Mama brushing her hand away and whispering harshly. "Hide Mouse. And don't make a peep. Stay hidden no matter what! And do naut move until I come for you!". Mama's voice sounded scared. The only time she remembered hearing Mama's scared voice was when she got so very sick from the berries Aka picked for her. Mama was scared, and that made her scared too. So she listened and stayed hidden. Shouts and screams filled the air and echoed through her head though she covered her ears. Mama was begging for something over and over and crying. She cried too, but didn't make a noise. Whatever was happening was bad. Really bad. She waited and the screaming and crying stopped and she smelled smoke and something like meat burning, but it smelled bad. The strange voices went away and the light faded and still Mama didn't come. Her stomach growled and she had to relieve herself, but Mama didn't come. At last, as her eyes grew heavy, she heard the soft whispered voices of her siblings and the sharp commanding one of Auntie. Aka's tear stained and swollen face peered under the bed. "Come Dori-chii. It is time to leave." He did not say so, but she knew. Mama wasn't coming to get her...~ Chapter Three ~"Come, child. And bring your things." Dori wrinkled her nose but did as she was told, hefting the small rucksack with all her possessions over her shoulder. Auntie never called her by name, it was always Child, and she hated it. The woman didn't even look to see that the toddler was following, simply strode out the door and into the lane with a purpose , and yet the child followed obediently behind, as fast as her little legs could carry her. "Do you know what day it is?" Auntie asked. "We see Aka?" "Nau! Don't be foolish! Today is your birthday." Dori cringed and stuck her thumb in her mouth twisting her fingers in her long dark curls to cover her face. She would much rather see her brother Akalith. After that frightful night exactly one year ago, her two older sisters were sent to the Temple. Whisked away one dreary morning without a chance to say goodbye. Auntie said it was for the best and they would have been sent long ago, if her mother had any sense at all. She said that Dori should just forget about them, because they would forget about her. Of course, the wee Dori could not see why that would be best at all, and cried for days, which she spent locked alone in the wine cellar. Auntie could not abide crying. Shortly after, she suffered another tremendous loss. Akalith was sent to the Academy. He too, taken away in the earliest hours before dawn while she slept soundly not an arm's length away. Again, she was locked in the wine cellar until well after she had ceased her mourning. Now, it was her turn. Cold and sleepy in the gray spring dawn, her rucksack banging against her legs with every step. They only walked as far as the end of the lane that lead to the great house her Auntie owned- now hidden from sight among the spruce and fir, and where she had lived for the past year. As they stepped to the edge of the common road, two armored and darkly cloaked men emerged from the shadows, followed by another, older man in black robes trimmed in silver fur. The older man spoke, his voice smooth and deep. It made Dori want ''to listen. "''A bit small for her age." "She'll grow. Just evidence of her poor breeding." The contempt in Auntie's voice surprising the child. "She'll serve well enough." "Yes. I imagine she will. Healthy, you say?" Dori almost wanted to like this man. "Unfortunately." She spat bitterly. "Would have been better for her mother if she had died that first winter." The gentleman chuckled. "Well if she had, I wouldn't be giving you this." He reached into his robes and held out a leather pouch that looked heavy and jingled slightly. Without warning, Auntie propelled the hapless four-year-old into the man's free hand as she snatched the pouch from the other. Turning on her heel, she began to march back down the lane. Without even a backwards glance, she called out, "She doesn't eat much." "Nau." The man chuckled softly, stroking her hair in a fatherly way. "I don't imagine she does." Sadori gazed up at the man's kindly face as she continued to suck her thumb, then turned to watch as the last member of her family walked out of her life.~ The memories continued to come hard and fast after that. Each one slicing through her, like shards of glass... The kind cook who immediately took the orphaned child under her wing, hiding away Dori's prized possessions from the other house servants. The one who fed and cared for her and talked to her in hushed tones about keeping faith in Mother Shilen. Her words soothing and reminiscent of her mother. The one who at great risk to herself, treated Sadori's wounds after especially brutal beatings - until she was caught and relieved of her hands only to die of infection and shock days later. Her young mistress, who took such great joy in tormenting her at every opportunity. Who ordered her hair shorn and magically spelled pale white; because "A slave should never look prettier than her mistress." Who forced her to bow in the family temple to a strange and unheard of goddess. Who seemed unceasingly to find new ways to torture and degrade her slaves daily. The beatings and lessons that often robbed her of sleep. Trained to be a bodyguard as well as a handmaiden, only to be ridiculed for her small stature and delicate frame. And finally outright prohibited from training as a knight as being above her station...and again, because of her size. The assassin hired to kill her mistress. Who instead of trying to kill his mark's bodyguard, pledged his love for Dori only to disappear within hours of her own confession. Finally, the night her mistress ordered her violated before and audience at the whim of a visiting dignitary. Then afterward, chained in the barracks to be beaten and violated for three full days - because she hadn't acted like she enjoyed her part in the show, which disappointed the guest of honor. That was when she broke. What happened next existing in a void, only recalling that she took her own life and then spent what felt like an eternity fleeing from the shades that stalked her through the nether realms known as the Veils ''or ''Shadowed Path - cut off from the Abyss and the embrace of Shilen. When she found her way free, the then called Hand of Shilen took her in. This is how she found her brother - and lost him to the darkness inside himself. And this is how she met Olorae, who saved her life and gave her hope, and showed her love was not dead. This was how she learned to see the ways Shilen had touched her throughout her life and continued to turn each curse thrust upon her by the godlike being of Elliason into yet another tool for serving the Mother. This was how she came to know the power of Shilen moving through her and guiding her blades in the execution of the traitor. How she became a God's Hand. Chapter Four Within the shadowed room, a sleepy masculine groan drifted from the massive bed, followed by a responding feminine sigh as both her loves shifted into yet another layer of slumber. The familiar sounds served as a reminder to bring her back to the present. Removing the robe and its associated memories, she folded it gently and placed the tiny bracelet in the center. With supreme reverence, the items were once more wrapped in their protective covering. And so it was that she poured the well of her grief out upon the stones of the balcony. Letting go of a past that was no more and banishing the ghosts of a life no longer hers. Black wings spread wide as she gave herself over to what she was and what lie ahead. The mortal woman who birthed her was no more, nor for that matter was her youngest child. The Dancer was the daughter of the All Mother, and as such, only the future stretched before her. With heart cleansed of pain, anger, and resentment, she felt no loss. And it was thus she remained, kneeling frozen and naked with wings outspread that she waited for the dawn. But she was not alone as her true Mother spoke to her, soothing her, encouraging her, and speaking to her of her role in things to come. Through the night, Shilen whispered to her, bringing a welcome balm at last, to her reborn daughter. Sadori met the new day knowing she had already done all that the goddess required of her and had bestowed her blessing. The rest would be mere ritual for Her worshipers, necessary nonetheless, but still ritual. The Dancer finally had her answers and that peace alone warmed her within as sleep claimed her at last. Category:Lore Category:Backstory